by Teri Wilson
“Are you sure, love?” Finn’s hand slipped onto the small of her back, and a rebellious shiver snaked its way up Avery’s spine.
“A couples’ massage sounds quite—” his gaze flitted toward hers, eyes molten “—nice.”
Avery knew that look. It was a look full of heat and promises. The same playfully wicked expression that she’d loved so much that night in Oklahoma. What woman wouldn’t?
Damn him.
“Mr. Crawford booked the honeymoon suite for a three-night stay,” the clerk oh, so helpfully said.
“If only we could stay that long.” Avery batted her lashes at Finn, whose hand remained on her back, where it continued to infuse her with the sort of warmth she most definitely didn’t need to be experiencing at the moment. “But we have an appointment tomorrow morning that we simply can’t miss. Don’t we, darling?”
They did, actually. Finn just didn’t know it yet.
He angled his head toward her. “We do?”
Avery’s first official prenatal appointment with an obstetrician was scheduled for the following morning at eleven o’ clock. Her gynecologist back in Dallas had started her on prenatal vitamins once her pregnancy test had come back positive, but since she no longer delivered babies, she’d given Avery a referral. After a few days in Rust Creek Falls had turned into a week and a week into two, she’d finally broken down and found a doctor in Montana. She’d made the appointment last week, before Finn knew anything about the baby, so she’d chosen a doctor whose practice was situated a half hour away from Rust Creek Falls. That still seemed like a good call, since being in such a small town was like living in a fishbowl.
“Yes, we do.” Avery nodded, hopefully putting a firm end to the idea of a couples’ massage.
“So, just one night, then?” The clerk glanced back and forth between them.
“Just one night,” Finn said with a sudden hint of regret in his gaze that seemed so real that Avery felt it deep in the pit of her stomach.
What were they doing?
“Well, the staff at Maverick Manor is here to help you make the most of it. Just let us know if you need anything. Anything at all.” The clerk handed two keys to an attendant who looked like he’d arrived fresh off the rodeo circuit. “Kent here will show you to your room.”
The congratulatory glint in her eye turned wistful, and it was then that Avery knew the young woman had indeed been one of Finn’s many Friday night social engagements. Not to mention the other six days of the week.
She felt sick as she followed Kent, with his perfect felt Stetson and worn cowboy boots, to the top floor of Maverick Manor. The minute Melba had warned her about Finn’s overactive social life, she should have turned tail and gone back to Dallas. She could have left him a note about the baby or written him an email. That would have been the chicken’s way out, obviously, and Finn would have no doubt beaten an immediate trail to Texas. But at least then she would have been on her home turf. She might have stood a chance at escaping from their one-night stand with her dignity—and her heart—intact.
Now here she was. In Montana, of all places, with a wedding ring on her finger and her heart in serious danger of cracking into a million pieces.
“Here we are.” With a flourish, Kent gestured to the intricately carved door at the end of the hall. Then he unlocked it and held the door open, waiting for the “giddy” newlyweds to step inside.
A heady wave of fragrance drifted from inside the sumptuous room—something floral and sweet. Hyacinths, maybe. They’d always been Avery’s favorite flower. And were those rose petals strewn on the floor?
God help her, they were. Where was a dust buster when she really needed one?
Avery stared at the petals, terrified to move. As luck would have it, she didn’t need to, because before she could register what was happening, Finn scooped her in his arms and swept her clear off her feet.
She squealed in protest, even as her arms wrapped instinctively around Finn’s thick neck. He laughed and it vibrated through her, sweet and forbidden.
Avery buried her face in the crook of his neck and whispered again the warmth of his skin. “What are you doing?”
“How would it look if I didn’t carry my bride over the threshold? Just go with it, love,” he murmured.
They were going to have words about this. They were also going to have words about his new nickname for her, because yes, they needed to put on a good show so their marriage was believable to the outside world, but she was only human. She had feelings, and right now, those feelings were in serious danger of throwing caution to the wind.
She blamed biology. Wasn’t she chemically programmed to be attracted to the father of her baby?
Right. That’s it. Science. It has nothing to do with his easy sense of humor or how sweet he is around animals or his generous spirit.
Or how he’d turned his entire life inside out for the sake of their baby. Or how he’d been there for her at a time when her own family had turned their backs on her. Or how he looked at her as if he’d simply been biding his time with all those other women, waiting for her to walk back into his life.
The list went on.
And on.
And on...
Kent tucked their bags away in the closet by the door and slipped out of the suite, yet Avery’s feet still weren’t touching the ground. The heat in Finn’s gaze was suddenly infused with a tenderness that made it difficult to breathe. She looked away, determined to collect herself, but it was then that she noticed the trail of rose petals led to a huge bed covered in pristine white bed linens, facing a picture window with a stunning view of the mountains. The sun was just beginning to dip low on the horizon, bathing the yellow aspen trees in glittering light. Their leaves sparkled like pennies, and it was all so beautiful that Avery had to squeeze her eyes closed against the romantic assault on her senses.
When she opened them, she found Finn watching her...waiting. Was he ever going to put her down?
“If you make a crack about my weight right now, I’ll never forgive you.” She gave him a tremulous smile.
It wasn’t a test. She was merely trying to inject some humor into a situation that suddenly seemed far too intimate. Had it been a test, though, Finn would have passed with flying colors.
“I wouldn’t dare.” His gaze narrowed and swept over her face, settling on her mouth. “You really have no idea how lovely you are, do you? Pregnancy suits you.”
She had a sudden flashback of Finn moving over her, looking at her with the same reverence in his eyes as he pushed deep inside her, whispering sweet nothings. At the time, she’d attributed his words to the martinis and the darkness of the blackout, which had a strange way of making everything feel more real, more intense.
But maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he really had felt those things. Maybe he still did.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, scrambling out of his arms and sliding clumsily to her feet. She took a giant backward step and pretended not to notice when Finn’s expression closed like a book. “I’m kind of tired. I should probably get some rest.”
“Right. Maybe we should take a nap.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck and seemed to look anywhere and everywhere—except at her. “On top of the covers. Fully clothed.”
This was the moment when she should have told him the truth—the moment she should have given up the pretense that she didn’t have feelings for the father of her child. It would be so easy. She might not need to say anything at all. She could just rise up on tiptoe and kiss him gently on the mouth, and he would know. He probably already did.
But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t open herself up that way. The past twenty-four hours had been more heartbreaking than she could have ever imagined. She’d lost her job. She’d lost her family. She couldn’t lose Finn, too, and that’s precisely what would happen if she tried to start somethin
g real with him and then realized he didn’t love her. If he did, wouldn’t he have led with that when he asked her to marry him?
“That sounds good.” She nodded. Could this honeymoon get any more awkward? “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, at eleven if you’d like to come along. For the baby.”
“For the baby,” he echoed, and his tone went flat. Lifeless. “Of course I’ll be there.”
She nodded, because she didn’t quite trust herself to speak.
“You okay, Princess?” Finn said, a bit of life creeping back into his tone.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Just tired.”
So very tired. Tired of dealing with her impossible father, tired of wondering what kind of mother she would be, tired of acting like the night in Oklahoma hadn’t meant anything when just the opposite was true. But most of all, she was tired of pretending. Sometimes it seemed like that’s all she’d been doing since the day she rolled into Montana—pretending she wasn’t pregnant, pretending she didn’t have feelings for Finn, and now, pretending they were like any other husband and wife. Suddenly, with Finn’s ring on her finger, she wasn’t sure she could do it anymore.
“Come on.” Finn strode to the bed and gave the mattress a pat. “Lie down. I promise I won’t bite.”
He smiled, but somehow it was one of the saddest smiles Avery had ever seen. So she did as he said, kicked off her boots and curled onto her side on the bed with her hands tucked neatly beneath her pillow, lest they get their own improper ideas.
Her eyes drifted shut and just as she began to doze off, she felt the mattress dip with the weight of Finn’s body. So solid. So strong.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she wasn’t sure why she was crying. She only knew that it was almost physically painful to have him so close without actually touching her. The space between them felt heavy, weighted with all things they couldn’t say or do to one another.
When they’d been together in Oklahoma, they’d fallen onto the bed together in a tangle of kisses and heated breath. Despite the martinis, she remembered everything about that night with perfect clarity. The thrill that coursed through her when she’d slid her hands up the back of his dress shirt. The way Finn’s eyes had gone dark when looked at her bare body for the first time. His aching groan when he’d pushed his way inside her.
She remembered it all as clearly as if it had just happened yesterday. Did he remember, too?
Was he thinking about it right now, just as she was?
“Princess?” Finn’s voice cut through the memories, but the ache in his tone was all too familiar. Too tortured to leave room for any doubt.
Of course he remembers. Of course he’s thinking about it.
All she needed to do was turn to face him. She wouldn’t even have to say anything. Everything she felt would be clearly written in her eyes—so much longing, and despite the craziness of their circumstances, so much hope.
She bit down hard on her lip to keep herself from answering him. And she didn’t dare move. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and kept her back to her husband.
Then Avery Crawford let the heavy silence and the sweet smell of velvety rose petals lull her to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
Hours later, Finn lay stretched out on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, fully awake. He was either too mad or too turned on to sleep. Probably both, but he couldn’t seem to figure out which bothered him most.
Avery wanted him. He knew she did, but something was holding her back. He just couldn’t figure out what that something was, and he didn’t want to push. She was his wife now, and she was pregnant. The burden of patience definitely fell on his shoulders in this scenario, hence his move from the bed to the sofa.
But they’d shared a moment earlier. He thought they had, anyway.
He glared hard at the rough-hewn wood beams overhead, wishing he could ask the room for confirmation. The space itself was glorious, with one wall completely made of stone opposite floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rugged Montana landscape. A fire blazed and crackled in the hearth. Hours ago, the air had been thick with longing, and now...
Now, nothing. Surely the walls remembered. Finn sure as hell did.
He sat up and raked his hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. Then he sighed, because in that moment, sleep seemed like the most impossible task in the world. He’d be better off spending half an hour under the cold spray of the suite’s luxury rainfall shower head than continuing to lie on the sofa listening to the steady breath of his wife as she slept like a baby in the huge four-poster bed. Alone.
He stalked toward the closet, grabbed his duffel bag and slipped as quietly as he could into the grand his-and-hers bathroom. Through his sock feet, he could feel the warmth of the heated stone floor tiles. A Jacuzzi tub overlooked the darkening Montana sky, and like everything else in the suite, the enormous stone shower was built for two. He didn’t need to close his eyes to dream of Avery, bare and beautiful, with water streaming down her changing body and droplets glittering on her eyelashes like stars. Sometimes it seemed as if she was all he saw, day or night.
It was making him crazy. They just needed to go ahead and sleep together so they could both get it out of their systems. Then they could go about dealing with the pregnancy with level heads. At least he hoped that’s what would happen, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on the way things were.
Finn wasn’t used to being so wrapped up in a woman like this. He was operating in strange and new territory, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. The baby had changed everything. Obviously.
Although...
Avery had been on his mind ever since Oklahoma, long before he had any idea she was carrying his child. On some primal level, he must have known. It was the only explanation.
The only one he was comfortable admitting to himself, anyway.
Get yourself together.
He glowered at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and hauled his duffel onto the natural marble vanity top. He’d been in such a hurry back at the Ambling A that he’d grabbed the first few articles of clothing he’d seen and stuffed them into his overnight bag along with his dopp kit. He wasn’t even sure what all he’d brought.
But he was certain he hadn’t packed the jewel-encrusted book that rested on top of his belongings and caught his eye the moment he drew back the zipper on his bag. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was studded with colorful gemstones and looked like something he might see in the windows of one of the antique shops downtown. The jewels formed a swirling letter A on the front cover.
He squinted at it. The book definitely looked familiar, but how had it managed to get inside his bag, and what was he supposed to do with it?
Knox.
Finn sighed. He’d thought it was strange when his newlywed brother had insisted on carrying his bag to the truck so Finn could help Avery with her things. He definitely could have managed all their luggage on his own. But apparently Knox’s helpful attitude had been a ploy to get his hands on Finn’s duffel so he could tuck the book inside. Now that he knew where the gaudy thing had come from, he recognized it as the old diary that he and his brothers had found beneath the floorboards of the Ambling A when they’d been renovating the place a few months ago. Someone had finally managed to pry the lock open—Xander, if Finn was remembering correctly—and since that time, the old book had been making the rounds as each of his brothers had gotten married. Knox had been the most recent to walk down the aisle, so it made sense that the diary would still be in his possession.
Seriously, though? He was supposed to spend his wedding night reading an old book?
It’s not like you’re busy doing anything else at the moment.
True. So frustratingly true.
His jaw clenched as he moved to sit down, taking the book with him. Mildly surprised to find tha
t the author was a man, he kept reading.
Oddly enough, the diary proved to be a pretty effective way of getting his mind off Avery and the myriad ways he’d rather be spending his wedding night than sitting on the bathroom floor with his legs stretched out in front of him, poring over the details of some poor sod from a different era. But as fate would have it, the author’s girlfriend had been pregnant.
A child. A child! Unexpected, unplanned, but not for a moment unwanted. From the second I learned I was going to be a father, nothing else mattered. Only her—only the mother of my baby and the life we’re bringing into the world.
Finn’s pulse kicked up a notch when he came across that notable detail. And his heart seemed to make its way to his throat as he read passage after passage about how happy the writer was about the baby. The writer never spelled out his girlfriend’s name, but referred to her simply as W throughout the book. As Finn slowly flipped the pages, he realized why.
All this time...all these days we’ve lived and loved in secret. And now we can’t tell anyone about the baby. Not yet. So we continue to go through life pretending, but it’s getting more difficult by the hour. W is my whole heart, and I want the world to know how much she and our child mean to me. But as we both know, it’s just not possible. Not now. Maybe not ever...
W and her sweetheart were keeping the pregnancy and their relationship under wraps for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, but they wanted to keep the baby a secret.
That’s when Finn slammed the bejeweled book closed. The similarities were beginning to freak him out a little bit. He felt for the poor guy and W, whoever they were. He really did, but most of all, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how their love story would end.
* * *
Avery slept like the dead. The turmoil of the past forty-eight hours had taken its toll, and once her head hit the pillow, she was finally able to escape the craziness that was now her life. She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the suite’s massive picture window and a scowl on her husband’s face.
